Jewish Ideas

Note: This account is a single author’s experience of adopting the Jewish traditional practice of tzniut, or “modesty”. She does not seek to speak for anybody else’s experience with this aspect of Judaism.

“Thus said the Lord: A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weeping, Rachel weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children because they are not. Thus said the Lord: refrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears; for your work shall be rewarded, said the Lord; and they shall come back from the land of the enemy. And there is hope for your future, said the Lord; and your children shall return to their own border” (Jeremiah 31:15-17).

“Rabbi Hanina, deputy high-priest, would say: pray for the welfare of the government, for were it not for respect for it, men would swallow one another alive” (Pirkei Avot 3:2).

All good people want to live in a stable, safe society. All good people want to live in a society that promotes justice, fairness and equality for its members. An effective government is a vital ingredient for maintaining good lives. Without a properly functioning government, society runs the risk of falling into chaos.

In recent days, we have been witnessing a crisis in Ferguson Missouri—a crisis which goes far beyond that town. Aside from the protests and rioting in Ferguson itself, there have been demonstrations and protests throughout the United States.

"How many more people do we need for a minyan?" An apparently innocent question, posed daily in Orthodox synagogues across the United States and Canada. Or, in another context, "Despite the fact that there is no explicit mitzvah to cover one's head, it has been the universal custom of observant Jews to wear yarmulkes or kipot." What could be objectionable?

Especially for those of us men who identify ourselves as Modern Orthodox Jews, we ought to make a sustained effort to become more sensitive, beginning with understanding why such seemingly routine statements are problematic. Even as men who advocate for expanding the roles available to women in the synagogue, we subtly betray long internalized and damaging biases.

We have all been shocked and saddened to learn of the immoral and illegal behavior of a prominent Orthodox rabbi who was recently arrested for voyeurism, i.e. for planting a hidden camera in the mikvah of his community. This behavior is reprehensible beyond words, and the women who used that mikvah are understandably indignant over this breach of their privacy. They came to the sacred precincts of the mikvah for ritual purification—but now learn that their trust has been betrayed by their own rabbi.

From time to time I receive comments from Institute members about new “humrot” (stringencies) which are being introduced at their synagogues. In one case, the congregation engaged a new rabbi who promptly raised the mehitza, forbade women’s hakafot on Simhat Torah, and took a “black hat” approach to other issues. A group of congregants became so fed up that they quit the shul and started their own modern Orthodox congregation.

In another case, a new rabbi discarded long-established practices with the claim that he wished to “raise halakhic standards.” Although this has caused grief among some congregants, others simply go along with the changes thinking that there’s nothing they can do to alter the situation.

Here is an excerpt of a letter I received from a young person who was raised in an Orthodox home.

The Holy Day season is approaching and I dread it. Year after year, I’ve attended services with my family, sometimes at one synagogue and sometimes at another. We are supposed to feel awe and religious uplift during this season but I only feel frustration and discouragement.

In our shul, the lay leaders strut around like peacocks. The chazen doesn’t pray but only sings to show off his voice. The rabbi tells stories and jokes, and kisses up to the rich, and his sermons never make me feel closer to God. The Holy Day services are a charade of prayer, but not prayer.

What can I do? I don’t want to go to synagogue on the Holy Days…or maybe never.

We sadly record the passing of Dr. Jose Nessim, one of the very impressive Jewish leaders of our generation. A medical doctor in Los Angeles for many years, Dr. Nessim devoted the time and energy to found the Sephardic Educational Center in Jerusalem. Through his tenacity, generosity, and grand worldview, he established this center in historic buildings of the Old City of Jerusalem. Thousands of students and visitors have benefited from the programs of the center in Jerusalem, as well as programs sponsored by the Sephardic Educational Center held in the diaspora.

Dr. Nessim thought big. He wanted to revitalize Sephardic life and to connect new generations of Sephardim to their heritage. An ardent lover of Israel, he wanted young Jews to experience Jerusalem and the land of Israel.

I wish to thank you all for writing and expressing your worries and concerns about us, particularly after the last round of sirens in Jerusalem just several minutes ago. All of you wish to know how we are “holding up” and what is our emotional and spiritual situation.

This is a traumatic moment for the Jewish people. But this moment could very well be a long period. The tragic deaths of the three Jewish teenagers and shameful murder of the Arab boy, and now rockets falling all over Israel and Israel’s determined response… these have jarred us all. Is there a context in which we can put this?